


(Not As) Hard, Hard, Hard as It Seems

by rocknrolleigns (simpleandpure22)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Heath is a sweetheart, M/M, Protect him at all cost, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 04:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21030563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpleandpure22/pseuds/rocknrolleigns
Summary: Drew's new roommate shows him that it is possible to be amused and aroused by the same person. At the same time.





	(Not As) Hard, Hard, Hard as It Seems

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow me on Tumblr, you'd know that I was working on a 3MB era Drew and young Seth as college roommates. And here it is. :D It has been a pleasure to write, because their dynamics are very different from current Drew/Seth, but still fun nevertheless. I hope you like it as much as I like writing it. <3
> 
> The title is from Led Zeppelin's "Going to California", which I think suits the fic. Oh, and the way Drew speaks here is a mixture of British and American, because that's how he talked when he was with 3MB, so it's completely intentional. ;)

For the third time in ten minutes, Corbin’s phone buzzes loudly. Drew watches him as he shrugs and leaves the drum set, sauntering over the table to read the text, with no remorse whatsoever for interrupting the practice—again. Across him, Jinder and Heath just look at each other in resignation.

“It’s Ember,” Corbin says, without looking up from his phone. “Asking when we’ll be done.”

“The same time as it’s been for the last five months,” Drew comments, brushing non-existing dust from the neck of his Telecaster. “She would’ve known if she already dated you last week.”

The remark doesn’t faze Corbin, ‘cause like all of Drew’s mates he’s used to Drew’s (mostly) harmless snark. Instead, he pastes a wide grin on his face. “Come on, man, don’t be like that. She’s the real deal, I mean it.”

“Bro, I remember you saying the same thing about—what’s her name again?—that redhead from Fashion Design,” Heath interjects from behind the mic.

“Eva Marie,” Jinder replies helpfully. He has a knack for remembering the ladies’ names. “Yeah Corbin, man, you said _she_ was the girl of your dreams. You change dreams every two weeks now?” They all break into a snigger.

“As fun as Corbin’s love life is, I still want to finish before nine o’clock,” Drew says after everyone stops laughing, readjusting his guitar strap. “I have an early lecture tomorrow.”

Jinder mutters a 'me too'. He’s a third-year Engineering student, who got transferred to Pacific Grove University last year from Ottawa. He and Drew met in the compulsory English course, where they sat next to each other. Jinder commented on Drew’s musical notes scribble on his notebook, saying that he’s played bass since he was sixteen. Afterwards he launched a rant about The Beatles being overrated when he found out that Drew is a Music major. By the end of the lecture, they exchanged numbers and promised to meet up.

It was also around the time Drew, Psychology student Heath, and Heath's roommate Corbin from Political Science started doing band practice every Monday night. Corbin's first name is Baron, but he goes by his last name (as would Drew if he had that name.) Apparently, his mother is a huge Sound of Music fan, the poor thing.

After one jamming session, it was clear that Jinder is a better bass player than Heath, who until then had been doing both the vocals and bass. So, long story short, the band got a fourth member. Which is great. Loads of influential rock bands have four members: Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, The Doors, Bloody Beatles, _Queen_.

So far, the band doesn't really have a name. Heath calls it 4MB, which is short for Four Man Band. A bit simplistic if you ask Drew, but Heath can be cute like that.

They’re back to their positions and pick up where they left off: the second verse of Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way”. Twice because Heath messes up the vocals the first time around, but it goes better on the second attempt. After that they play their own song “Grand Illusion”.

“That was good,” Jinder says, looking quite pleased. “Would be even better with piano, but it is what it is.”

“I’ll take the guitar; Drew can play the piano,” Heath suggests with a grin. “_And _ the violin and the cello.” It’s a running joke within the band that Drew can play every musical instrument under the sun, because he _does _play a lot of them.

“Next you’ll tell us you can play the lute,” Corbin joins in after tucking away the drumsticks.

Drew shoots him a smirk. “You bet. We had lute lessons in Renaissance Music. Such a gorgeous sound, but very fiddly to play. It’s delicate, with seven courses of two strings each, and a single string for the highest-pitched course. So fifteen strings in total.” He wags his finger at him. “And no, you can’t just strum it like you would a guitar.”

Corbin stares at him for a second then shakes his head, while the other two laugh.

“So have you heard about your new roommate, bro? Is he gonna move in this week?” Heath asks Drew as they leave the music room.

“Yeah, it could be any day now.”

“Let’s hope it’s someone like Dean and not some prissy nerd,” Corbin says. “He was a cool dude, always knew where to get the best weed.”

They all like Drew's old roommate, who was laid-back and deceptively funny, and like Corbin said, he got the best weed on campus. Two months ago he dropped out and moved to Las Vegas to pursue an MMA career. So sometime this week, Drew is gonna get a new roommate. He hasn't shared a room with a weirdo before—hopefully never. His roommate prior to Dean was an English exchange student called Wade, who was a party animal to the core. Great lad.

Drew's dormitory complex is on the east side of the main building, not too far from the music facilities. He says goodbye to the others as they continue walking towards their own dorms, still chatting loudly. The noise fades as soon as he closes the door behind him.

He sees no one in the corridor, on the way to his room. Most students usually have gone back to their rooms at this time of day, even more so on a Monday. Once or twice he passes a room with an open door, hearing parts of muffled conversations (“What do you mean you haven’t done it?” “It’s Ashford’s class, dude, he’ll _kill _ you!”) As he reaches his room, he sees that the door is unmistakably ajar. What the fuck? In all his three years of living on campus Drew never forgot to lock the door before he leaves—not even once.

Still bemused, Drew pushes the door open and walks inside. For a split second, he thinks he enters the wrong room. When he left this afternoon his bed was pretty neat, and he laid a pile of clean clothes from the laundry room on his roommate’s desk, since he hadn’t had time to fold them yet. Now all those clothes are scattered over his bed, and there are a couple of boxes on his roommate’s supposedly empty desk.

But the biggest difference is standing with his back to the door, wearing a black T-shirt and grey skinny jeans. His dark hair is loose around his shoulder, with a blond patch on one side. So the new roommate is here, earlier than Drew expected. He turns around when he hears Drew’s footsteps, and Drew finds himself staring into a pair of big, extremely pretty brown eyes.

And pretty is the keyword. The guy is shorter than Drew by four or five inches, his T-shirt snug around his lean body, and his long legs are encased by the super tight jeans, making them look a mile long.

“You must be Drew,” the guy says. “I’m your new roommate, Seth Rollins.”

He hasn’t made any move to shake hands, so Drew doesn't extend his. “Drew McIntyre,” he replies. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.” He glances at the disarray of clothes on his bed before averting his gaze back on his new roommate’s pretty face.

Raising his chin in defiance, Seth responds, “I needed to put my stuff on the desk and your clothes were all over it. You should’ve known I was coming.”

Drew waits to see if the sentence is followed by an apology, or something resembling one. But it never comes. Seth gives him a once-over and turns his attention back to the boxes, resuming to unpack his stuff. After some long seconds, it’s clear that he has no intention of continuing the conversation. _Fine_. Despite that, Drew can’t take his eyes away from him, from the sharp lines of his body to the different colours of his hair.

Not a prissy nerd, but a beautiful, sassy spoiled brat. And he has no idea which one of them is worse.

* * *

It’s obvious from the start that Seth won’t be a considerate roommate, nor does he make any effort to be one. Every day he wakes up at the crack of dawn for a run and doesn’t try to be quiet as he moves around the room. If the noise didn’t wake Drew up, the morning sunlight on his face certainly would, since Seth always leaves the curtains open. Long story short, he’s nothing like Wade or Dean, or whatever a good roommate should be. But oddly enough, it doesn’t bother Drew as much as he thought it would. His interaction with Heath alone when he comes to visit Drew one morning is worth it.

“Hi, I’m Drew’s friend Heath. Wow, you’re cute,” says Heath, who’s never heard of brain-to-mouth filter in his entire life.

Seth is just back from the shower after his morning run. Now he’s looking at Heath with that haughty expression of his. “Seth.”

The less than enthusiastic reply doesn’t discourage thick-skinned Heath. His smile remains easy and bright. “Where are you from, bro?”

“Connecticut.”

“Nice. Which university did you go to before Pacific Grove?”

“Brown.”

Heath’s eyes widen at that. Drew watches the exchange from his bed in amusement. He doesn’t know which one is more entertaining: his friend’s prying interest or Seth’s one-word answers.

“You got accepted into an Ivy League college and you transferred here? Why would you do that? Not that we aren’t good, but it’s _Brown University_, bro,” Heath goes on.

Seth doesn’t reply. His brows are tightly pulled together in a near scowl. Drew senses that he’s one second away from telling Heath to piss off and mind his own business, and decides it’s time for him to step in—for Heath’s sake more than Seth’s. He rolls off the bed, retrieves a book from the shelf, the one about guitar chords that Heath came to borrow, and thrusts it to his chest.

“Here it is, brother, see you later in History,” he tells him, not so gently steering him towards the doorway. Heath opens his mouth to protest, but Drew shuts the door before he can say a word. “Don’t mind him. He’s a bit nosey, but he’s a good bloke.” Seth’s face is more relaxed than when Heath was here, but it’s not gonna last long. “But he has a point. You moved across the country to go to a University below the level of your prestigious old one. Why is that?” Drew asks, just to see his reaction. He can’t help it.

As he expected, Seth’s eyes narrow a fraction. “It’s none of your—or your friend’s—business.”

Isn’t he adorably predictable? Drew gives him a nonchalant shrug. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t try to get to know my new roommate.” He stretches his arms above his head, walking towards the wardrobe to grab a towel, when he notices that Seth is watching him. “What?”

“Can’t you put on some clothes?” Seth frowns. But he appears to have a hard time tearing his eyes off Drew’s exposed chest.

Motioning the towel in his hand, Drew arches an eyebrow. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m taking a _shower_. Kind of hard to do it with clothes on,” he says with mock sweetness. “They don’t have communal showers at Brown?”

It’s another thing he finds amusing about Seth. For some reason he doesn’t want to be naked in front of Drew. He always changes in the bathroom or waits until Drew leaves the room. And he doesn’t like Drew walking around shirtless, so _of course_, Drew has to do it more just to bug him. Like right now, where he’s stripped down to his black boxers that don’t do much to cover his morning wood.

Seth looks annoyed, if not a little scandalised, but he can’t seem to find any comeback. He flops onto his bed and reaches over the desk for a book, pointedly trying to ignore Drew, much to Drew’s amusement.

* * *

Saying that Heath is taken with Seth after their little encounter would be an understatement.

He can’t stop talking about him, bombarding Drew with questions every time they meet in the lecture hall or band practice. _Why did he leave Brown University? Isn’t he so pretty? What does his family do in Connecticut? _ He tells Drew he knows some people in his Psychology course, who know some people at Brown, and that he’s gonna ask around. Drew is slightly torn because it’s kind of an invasion of privacy, isn’t it? But on the other hand he’s getting curious about Seth too, and as it looks now, Seth isn’t gonna tell him anything voluntarily.

“Do you fancy him or something?” Drew rolls his eyes when Heath mentions Seth's name for the third time before History lecture.

Like Drew, Heath is bisexual. He’s been in an on-and-off relationship with an Architecture student for the last few months, but as far as Drew knows it’s nothing serious. “I’m not swapping roommates. Corbin’s all right but I’m not interested in dealing with him on a daily basis.” Seth might not win roommate of the year award, but he can be entertaining. _And he’s a sight for sore eyes_.

“What? No, no, I’m still with Zack, you know. I’m just curious, is all.” Heath waves his hand dismissively.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Heath turns to his laptop, adding some words to his essay. “Is he even gay?”

Good question. Drew has never seen him being cosy with a guy or a girl, but from the way his eyes linger on Drew’s body when he thinks Drew doesn’t notice, it’s safe to say he’s into men. “I’d bet my Led Zeppelin IV first pressing vinyl that he isn’t straight.”

That gets Heath’s full attention. “How do you know that? Wait a minute, you two hooked up and you didn’t tell me?” he asks with a grin.

“Buddy, since when do I have to keep you updated on my sex life?” Three years of living in America has done a number on his accent—and word choice. “But to answer your question, no. Things could get messy real fast if you got involved with a roommate.”

“Not if it’s a hot ex-Brown University student, bro; beauty and brains,” Heath says slyly. “And from the little that I saw—a killer bod.”

Says someone who's _'still with Zack' _. But before Drew can respond, Professor White chooses that moment to walk in. Almost straight away, all the noise ceases. She starts speaking about midterm grades and extra assignments for the students who got a D minus or lower in the last exam, as well as the option to redo their failing essays. Since Drew never gets anything lower than a C plus, he doesn't pay much attention.

He thinks about the books and papers on Seth’s desk back in their room. They gave away some things that Seth himself wouldn’t, such as his scholarship in Literary Studies, which is unsurprising. Of course, Drew expects nothing less from a former Ivy League student. Heath isn’t wrong about the killer body either, it's something Seth’s skin-tight jeans and thin shirts can’t conceal. Beauty and brains indeed. _And his mouth is made to fit a cock_. If screwing him didn’t come with consequences, Drew wouldn’t think twice about doing it.

His jeans suddenly feel uncomfortable. Sod it, he’s not getting a boner in a lecture theatre for fantasising about his roommate, when said roommate is not even there. It’s been more than two weeks since the last time he had sex, yeah, _but come on,_ _you’re better than that_. He needs to get laid. Asap. But the mental image of sending Seth away while Drew fucks a girl or a guy in their room almost makes him chuckle. He can already _feel_ the hissy fit and death glare that will ensue. Maybe he’ll do it for the entertainment alone.

Meanwhile, Professor White has moved on to today’s material. She writes a huge “page 67” on the whiteboard, picking up where they left off in the last lecture. Next to him, Heath has opened his book. Drew soon follows suit, pushing the unholy thought about his roommate to the back of his mind. For now.

* * *

Drew glances up from the guitar in his lap as Seth lets out a loud sigh, for the second time in the last five minutes. Here we go again. One corner of his lips twitches, but he says nothing.

By his desk, Seth is sitting in a black chair identical to Drew’s, having his nose buried in a book thicker than the Holy Bible. Some hair have escaped his low bun; dark brown and blond strands are falling in soft curls around his face. Once in a while, he will nibble his pen before scribbling something on his notebook, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He looks adorable without even trying.

When Drew notices he’s been studying Seth more than his own assignment, he peers back at the music sheet in front of him. All right, focus. He straightens up his legs on the mattress and begins picking the strings, playing the melody from the top. But two seconds later he hears another sigh.

Slamming his book closed, Seth swivels his chair to face Drew. “Stop. Please. I still have _three hundred_ and twenty six pages that I need to read for Shakespeare and Politics class. The dude’s ridiculous usage of pretentious words is hard enough by itself; I can’t do it with you making all those noises with your _ stupid _ guitar,” he snaps, with a scowl on his face that’s nowhere near as intimidating as he intended.

Drew leans back on the wall, reaching behind him to smoothen the edge of his Led Zeppelin poster out of habit. “I’m doing my assignment for Composition class, that is worth three credits,” he replies calmly. “It’s not just _guitar noises_.”

“Why can’t you do it in the common room?”

“House rule number eleven: no noise in the common room after nine,” Drew reminds him. He nods at the clock on the wall above the door, which shows twelve minutes past ten.

Realising he's fighting a lost cause, Seth shoots him one of his cute death glares and turns back to his book. This time, Drew can’t hold back an amused smile. His composition isn’t due until next week, but Seth doesn’t need to know that. He strums his guitar for a few more moments, watching Seth’s back go more and more rigid by each second. If he got any tenser than that he would snap like a bowstring.

“All right, fine. I’m calling it a night,” Drew relents, putting his guitar and music sheets on the floor below his bed, like the good roommate that he is.

Seth turns to look at him, with a combination of bemusement and suspicion in his big eyes. “Really?”

Standing up, Drew pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, then he bends over to take his jeans off. “Aye.” When he straightens up, Seth’s eyes are fixed on his legs. Ever so slowly, they're wandering up his thighs before coming to a stop on his crotch.

“I’m—uh, thanks.” Seth blinks, and his gaze shoots back up to Drew’s face. His tongue slips out for the briefest moment, darting over his lips, wet and shiny. He looks every bit like temptation personified.

“Like what you see?” Drew arches his brows. Before Seth can respond, he shoves his boxers down enough for his semi-hard erection to spring free. Then he backs away, reclaiming his place on the bed with his back against the wall, never breaking the eye contact. He wraps a hand around his cock as all traces of sleep have left his body in a single sweep.

“What—what are you doing?” Seth’s voice is laced with horror, as though it wasn’t obvious what Drew was doing.

But he doesn’t look away; his dark honey eyes are wide and bewildered, small puffs of air leave his parted, pink lips. The view sends a flash of burning lust through Drew’s veins, heading only one way down south. He licks a long stripe of his palm and begins to stroke. _ Fuck, it feels good_. Fixing his gaze on Seth’s mouth, he gives his cock a squeeze, hard and fast, swiping his thumb over the swollen head once then twice more, imagining the wet heat of Seth’s mouth around it.

“_Drew_, what are you doing?” Now Seth sounds downright panicked. He’s running out of breath, although he's done nothing more physical than reading in the last half an hour. “Drew, _stop it, _” he hisses. And yet... he keeps on watching.

“What’s the problem, babe? People at Brown don’t get themselves off?” Drew asks mockingly, despite the hot arousal in his belly. His voice is low and coarse, much more so than usual. “You can always leave.”

But he won’t.

In his chair, Seth is staring at him with flushed face, chest rising and falling rapidly with every breath. Slowly, he spreads his legs, as wide as the chair will allow, before reaching down to palm the front of his tented sweatpants. _That’s it, baby, yeah_. Drew kicks his boxers off his legs and rises from the bed. In two long strides, he’s standing in front of him. Seth’s eyes are dark with want, although Drew can still see a tiny bit of confusion. But he doesn’t give him any time to overthink. He grips his wrist, tugging him to his feet. And there’s no resistance when he reaches around to grab a handful of Seth’s delectable ass. Instead, Seth arches his back, letting out a moan that goes straight to Drew’s naked cock.

“This means nothing,” Seth pants against his neck. “Don’t get any, _ ah_... ideas.” It would’ve sounded more convincing if it wasn’t followed by a small whimper when their bodies collide.

"Wouldn't dream of it.”

They fall on Drew’s bed with Seth on top. “And I’m not gonna kiss you,” he adds as Drew releases his wrist.

Drew ignores that. He pulls Seth’s T-shirt over his head, then slips a hand inside his trousers. He smirks when he feels bare skin against his palm. “You talk too much.” Dragging the sweatpants down, his hand brushes over Seth’s spine and keeps going down, down, _ down. _ Seth gasps, but he makes no move to pull away.

“You’re not fucking me, either,” he breathes.

This time Drew can’t help rolling his eyes. “Fine. I’ll go get my chessboard if you’d rather do that,” he says, brushing Seth’s entrance with a finger. It elicits another gasp.

“Shut up,” Seth lets out between gritted teeth. “Why can’t you just _ stop _talking? You’re not as funny as you think.”

“I know, babe. That is why I’m a musician not a comedian.”

Seth glares down at him, as much as he can manage lying on top of Drew with their bare cocks brushing. “God, you’re so fucking infuriating.”

_And you’re so fucking beautiful_. Drew takes in his face, transfixed by the glowing fire in his eyes. He has to have him. Consequences can wait.

Drew raises his thumb and slips it inside Seth’s wet mouth. Seth blinks, and as if a switch has been flicked, one second later he starts sucking Drew’s thumb tentatively, dragging his tongue up and down the length. _ Hell, fuck. _If he sucked cock half as good...

As if he could read his mind, Seth pulls away. They lock eyes for a moment before he slides down Drew’s body, doesn’t stop until he reaches his cock. This time all his early hesitation is gone. He takes Drew’s length in his mouth, sinking down almost to the root. It hits the back of his throat, and Drew always prides himself to be bigger than most.

“Bloody—“ Drew’s eyes shut of their own accord. “Fuck, your _ mouth_.” He buries his fingers in Seth’s hair, urging him to continue whatever black magic he is doing.

Seth pulls back a little to close his mouth around the leaking head. He flicks his tongue over the slit, alternating between licking and sucking. Both feel equally good, so good, as though he was born with it. His slippery tongue makes its way to Drew’s balls, brushing the perineum before going back up. Drew opens his eyes just as Seth’s lips sinks back all the way down deeply, sucking hard, until Drew’s pubic hair tickles his nose. Then he goes back up. Yeah, fuck. At this rate Drew isn’t gonna last long, not with Seth’s tongue caressing every vein under sensitive skin. His hips buck upwards and he pumps himself deeper into his roommate’s throat, forcing a moan out of him that’s muffled by Drew’s rigid cock.

At the back of his lust-clouded mind, Drew wants Seth to come too. He wouldn’t mind returning the favour, but there’s no way he could give head as good. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) Drew got his dick sucked way more than the other way around—by both sexes.

But he doesn’t need to worry. Seth grabs his own hard shaft and starts stroking, almost in sync with his mouth; a mouth that’s, without a shadow of a doubt, made to fit a cock.

Drew groans as he comes, shooting his load deep down Seth’s throat. Seth isn’t far behind him. He pulls back and whimpers a second later. But half of Drew’s cock still remains in his mouth, and he’s absently sucking it like a popsicle. Drew does nothing to stop him—still high up in the clouds. After what feels like hours, the softening flesh slips out of Seth mouth and he raises his head. Post-orgasm bliss looks really good on him; his big, shining eyes and moistened lips. Wordlessly, Drew reaches over to brush his thumb over the lower lip, feeling Seth’s soft breath on the tip of his finger.

It’s not something he normally does. Drew isn’t a mellow one after sex, not even after the mind-blowing ones. He can only blame his endorphins-high brain on this. Seth watches him with slightly widened eyes, but he doesn’t pull back.

They stay like that for a moment, until suddenly Seth’s face hardens and he shifts, climbing off the bed in one smooth motion. “If you tell anyone, the deal’s off,” he says flatly, as if he didn’t just swallow Drew’s come a few minutes ago.

_ What deal_, Drew wants to ask. He doesn’t remember them making any deal. But his brain is yet to fully function, so he only watches as Seth pulls his sweatpants back on, followed by his T-shirt that he picks up from the floor. Half of his hair has left the low bun; it is now a mess of unruly dark and light strands around his head, and yet, he still looks bloody beautiful.

Seth raises his eyebrows slightly, letting Drew know he’s expecting an answer. “Fine.” He leans back on his elbows. “Anything to have your mouth around my dick,” he says, adding a smile to provoke a reaction.

Predictably, Seth shoots him a glare, a gesture that Drew has gotten familiar with in the last couple of weeks, but much to Drew’s disappointment he doesn’t rise to the bait. He smooths down his T-shirt and turns around, closing the door behind him.

* * *

The ‘deal’ turns out to be a repeated thing for the next week. Almost every night, Seth climbs on top of Drew and sucks his cock when the lights go off, and each blowjob feels just as good as the first time he did it.

And like the first time, Seth never lets Drew return the favour. He doesn’t even let Drew touch him or pin him down; it always ends with him swallowing Drew’s load and then making himself come. Every single time. Drew knows he gets the better part of the deal, ‘cause there is this gorgeous being who gets off on having Drew’s dick in his wet, hot mouth, where Drew can just lie back and enjoy it. Any guy would tell him it’s the best arrangement in the world, a man’s ultimate wet dream.

And it might be, but Drew wants to touch him, wants to make him fall apart with his hands or tongue. He wants to feel Seth’s taut body underneath him, wrecking him, licking every inch of his skin until he writhes and begs for more. Drew isn’t used to be a passive participant in sex. He’s always been the one in charge, unless his partner feels particularly kinky and wants to ride him while he’s tied up. In that case, ma’am, he’d be very happy to comply.

But it’s not the case with Seth. Seth doesn’t feel particularly kinky, no. For whatever reason, he just doesn’t want to give up control. If that’s what he’s into, fair enough, but instinctively Drew knows it isn't. There are moments where Seth is close to come, and he will moan loudly and let Drew tug his hair hard, and sometimes after they’ve both come Drew will stroke his cheek, and Seth will subconsciously lean against his palm, with his eyes fluttering closed. Beautiful and within reach.

Until he realises what he’s doing and jerks back, his mask slipping back in place.

* * *

“And Corbin’s still with Ember. He got it _ bad_, bro,” Heath informs him one Friday evening. He and Jinder are in Drew’s room, for no reason other than to chat. Drew is sitting on his bed with his laptop in his lap, and they both sit across the room on Seth’s bed, with Jinder idly fiddling with Seth’s pillowcase. If Seth walked in this very moment and saw it, the reaction would be hilarious.

“Not sure what she saw in that guy but, good for him,” Jinder adds jokingly. “What are you working on?” He nods at Drew’s laptop.

“We’re doing music, fugues, and sonatas built around the Lutheran chorale at the beginning of the 17th century for Early Baroque Music course,” Drew replies, closing the lid of his laptop and putting it aside. “This one’s about Schütz’s Symphoniae sacrae I, Op. 6, which is a collection of sacred music on Latin excerpts from Psalms and The Song of Songs.” Heath and Jinder look at him like he just spoke Latin himself, it makes Drew chuckle. “Well, you asked.”

Heath shakes his head, baffled. “No kidding. How do you stay awake in that class? I wouldn’t last ten minutes.”

Taking Seth’s pillow into his lap, Jinder nods in agreement. “I love music, but you can’t pay me to sit through classical music shit. There’s a reason I’m not a Music major.” He grimaces. “By the way, have you heard more about your apprenticeship?”

“It’s down to London or L.A. My advisor thinks L.A. is the best choice, and I don’t disagree with her, but London is closer to home so we’ll see when we get there.” Drew gives him a light shrug. “I still have a few months to decide.” He’s in his final year and the last semester will mostly be an apprenticeship in a recording company and a few courses that can be taken online.

“We’re gonna miss you, man. Band practice won’t be the same without you,” Heath says earnestly, and next to him Jinder nods.

Drew gently nudges Heath's shoe with his foot. “I’m still here. Maybe we’ll get signed before that and I don’t have to choose at all,” he jokes.

Both Heath and Jinder laugh at that, though Heath’s a bit more solemn. “Yeah, the record label would have to be stupid or desperate to sign us. We all know we’re not good enough,” he says, glancing at Jinder who shrugs. “And it’s okay, really, it’s been insanely fun. But you’re very talented, Drew, you’ll do great things wherever you end up.”

Drew looks at him, a faint smile on his face. Ah, good guy Heath. “I thought you study Psychology not Philosophy. But thank you.” He turns his attention to Jinder who’s hugging Seth’s pillow tightly and has creased the fabric. “ Jinder, put that pillow down before my roommate sees you.”

“Yeah, what is he gonna do about it? He’s like, what, six one?” says Jinder mockingly, since he’s six five like Drew. He turns to the books on Seth’s desk. “Jesus, look at these books. Even twenty semesters won’t be enough to read them all.”

Drew leans back against the wall. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Where is gorgeous Mr. Ivy League, by the way? And while we’re at it, have you bedded him yet?” Heath interjects with a shit-eating grin; his sappy mood clearly has passed.

“It’s still none of your business,” Drew reminds him. He never intended to tell them in the first place, even if Seth didn’t tell him not to.

“Speaking of him, I talked to my friend’s friend the other day, the one who went to Brown. He knows Seth, not personally but he knows who he is,” Heath says again. “Apparently, his dad is Hunter Helmsley from Connecticut.”

The name sounds familiar somehow. But before Drew can ask, Jinder beats him to it. “That Helmsley from McMahon-Helmsley Industries?”

“The one and only.” Heath turns to him and nods, before looking back at Drew. “It’s a question on top of the other questions, right—why doesn’t Seth have his dad’s name?”

“Maybe he uses his mother’s maiden name?” Jinder suggests helpfully.

But Heath shakes his head. “Nah, man, Helmsley’s wife is a McMahon, hence the _ McMahon _-Helmsley Industries.”

“Could be that Helmsley’s wife is not his mother,” Jinder tries again.

“It could be,” Heath says thoughtfully. “Beauty, brains, and mysteries, such a complete package. You sure you don’t know anything about this, Drew?”

“No. He doesn’t talk about personal stuff, or any stuff for that matter.” _ He just likes to suck me off. _

Speaking of the Devil, the door suddenly opens and Seth walks in. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees them, but it’s gone just as quickly. He drops _ more _ books onto his desk and turns to Drew’s friends still sitting on his bed. Like getting a cue, Heath and Jinder stand up exactly at the same time and scurry towards Drew’s side of the room. It looks almost comical. What happened to ‘_he’s what, six one_’? But well, Seth can have that effect on people.

“Hi, sorry about that,” Jinder tells him with an apologetic grin, nodding at the mess that is his used-to-be-neat bed.

“It’s fine,” Seth replies, much nicer than Drew expected; he didn’t even give Jinder one of his (lovely) death glares. It makes Drew wonder if they’re reserved especially for him. The thought makes him inwardly smile.

“So, are you going out tonight? You can come with us to Whisper. It’s Friday Night, bro,” Heath offers, because by his logic, Seth not snapping at him apparently means that they’re now friends.

Seth smooths down the covers on his bed and rearranges his pillow. “I don’t think so, but thanks. I have a study group in”—he glances at the clock—“twenty minutes.”

“On a Friday night?” Heath asks in disbelief.

Seth only shrugs in a “it is what it is” way. As he straightens up, his eyes meet Drew’s. He holds his gaze for a long second before taking some papers out of the drawer and shoving them into his backpack. “See you guys around.” Then he’s out of the door again before they know it.

* * *

Whisper is quite packed, as usual on a Friday night, with a bunch of Pacific Grove students aiming to get laid or get drunk—or both. Corbin disappears as soon as they arrive, looking for Ember, the same with Heath and Zack. That leaves only Drew and Jinder.

“Go get us a table, I’ll get some drink. Beer?” Drew asks, and Jinder nods. He’s always been the one buying them drinks since he turned twenty-one earlier this year.

When he returns with two beers in his hands, Jinder has gotten them a table, but he isn’t alone. Sitting next to him is a pretty girl with big, curly hair wearing a glittery top, who’s talking to him animatedly.

“Hey, I’m Alicia,” she greets him cheerfully, as soon as he sits down on the seat across the table.

“I’m Drew,” Drew tells her with a polite smile, putting the beer glasses on the table. “Are you going to Pacific Grove, too?”

Alicia gives him a smile full of shiny, white teeth. “I was. I graduated three years ago. Now I’m a boutique manager in Monterey.”

An older woman who’s exactly Jinder’s type, good for him. He’s hit the jackpot. They chat for a while; Alicia never runs out of things to talk about, and she seems to be as into Jinder as Jinder is into her. Drew offers to get her a drink when he’s drunk his beer (Jinder’s is nearly untouched as he’s busier staring at her), but Alicia says she’ll get one herself after she’s back from the ladies.

“Don’t forget to get her number,” Drew says with a grin.

“Bro, I will get more just than her number,” Jinder smirks, finally taking a gulp of his beer that must’ve been boiling by now. “Isn’t that Tiffany over there? She’s been looking at you for the last five minutes.”

Drew turns to look, and well, it is. The girl is standing near the dance floor, wearing a green tank top and a white mini skirt, with her blonde hair falling around her shoulders in pretty waves. Drew dated her for a few months last year, but it didn’t work so well, and now they’re just friends who occasionally fuck, no strings attached. She’s beautiful for sure, all long legs and a tiny waist. Drew’s last hook-ups have all been men, and he kinda misses a woman’s body; the softness of it, the lovely curves. Tiffany is one of his favourite partners because she’s not only passionate in bed, but also unapologetic about what she wants.

Tiffany gives him a smile as he reaches her. “Hi Drew, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you here,” she says in his ear when he leans down, so that she can kiss his cheek. “Where have you been?” She puts a hand on his chest. A smile crosses Drew’s lips. Oh yeah, Jinder isn’t the only one getting lucky tonight.

Drew tucks a lock of soft, blonde hair behind her ear. “Just have been busy, babe. I need more credits this semester, so that I don’t have to take as many courses next year,” he explains, placing his hand on her waist and pulling her even closer. His cock stirs as he feels her tits pressing against his stomach.

Yeah, he wants her. It’s been a while since he had sex, not counting the blowjobs Seth gave him. He means real sex between two people, two bodies wanting the same thing. He wants to hold someone down and lick them from head to toe, hearing them beg before he fucks them hard and harder. He bloody needs it.

Tiffany’s fingers make a quick work on the top buttons of his blue shirt, and she slips her dainty hand inside, grazing his nipple with her long nails. _ Fuck. _Drew bites back a growl. He looks down to see her arching her eyebrows knowingly. The girl is sexy as sin and she knows it.

“Come on, Drew, let’s take this home.” She pulls his head down to purr in his ear.

Gladly. But then something crosses his half-clouded mind. Home means Seth. And he’s not sure he wants to deal with Seth’s tantrum when he has to throw him out. But what are the other choices he has? Tiffany is a native Californian and she has a family in the city. As far as Drew remembers she lives with her aunt and two little nieces, that’s why she can’t take a boy home with her. Usually, they have no problems having sex in Drew’s place. His old roommates were understanding and they’d leave the room for two or three hours to give them privacy, and Drew would return the favour when it was their turn to take a girl home.

But Seth is something else.

And it’s not just about his attitude, or his beauty. Or the fact that he gives the best blowjobs that Drew’s ever had, hands down. There is no competition.

_ Stop thinking about him_. Tiffany, focus on Tiffany; she’s the one he’s gonna fuck tonight. Once he figures out where to do it.

Drew is considering his options and what to tell her, when something—more precisely someone—catches his eye between the sea of dancing bodies. _ Seth_. Is it possible to conjure him just by thinking about him now? Or is it the beer talking? Fuck no, Drew isn’t a lightweight. It’d take way more than a beer to get him drunk.

“Tiffany, I—” he hisses when her nail grazes his nipple again, harder this time. “Not here,” he warns her, catching her hand and pulling it out of his shirt.

She rolls her eyes but complies. Good girl. “Let’s just dance for a bit, babe. I miss dancing with you,” he persuades her. To his relief, she nods and begins to sway to the music. Then she turns around and presses her ass against his crotch. The girl’s got moves.

Pressing one hand over her belly, he trails down the curve of her side with his other hand. She’s warm and pliant, just the way he likes his women. But he can’t fully enjoy the dance, because his roommate is _still_ there. Drew tries to ignore him and focus on the hot girl in his arms, but of course it only works for a few seconds, before his gaze flickers across the room to find him.

And there he is, standing with a small group of people near a table. The thing he’s wearing isn’t that different from what he wears every day: a t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. The only difference is that his hair is down, the blond streaks standing out in the flashing blue lights. Even from this distance he is beautiful, and Drew finds it hard to look away.

What the fuck is wrong with him? He has this pretty girl wanting to shag him; why should he care about a spoiled brat who clearly wants nothing to do with him? That’s right, he shouldn’t. But for some reason, his body has a mind of its own. His erection starts to wane, despite Tiffany’s warm body against his. Bloody hell. He has to do something about it. When he sees Seth leave to the bathroom alone he tells poor Tiffany he needs to go, too, and she just nods, unsuspectingly. _ She shouldn’t_.

The bathroom is empty, save for Seth who’s standing in front of the sink. Their eyes meet in the mirror as Drew walks behind him. He stops before their bodies touch, and yet he still feels the heat emanating from Seth’s body.

“Going to a club is a part of your study group activities?” Drew breaks the silence, because he can’t help it.

Seth slightly raises his chin, but he doesn’t look away. “I don’t have to answer to you, you’re not my boyfriend. But if you _ have _ to know, we finished early and Jimmy suggested for us to come here, everyone else wanted to go so here we are. Anything else?”

Drew steps closer and his front brushes Seth’s back, making Seth suck in a breath. It’s subtle but Drew doesn’t miss anything. Not when it comes to him. He takes another step and leans over the counter, putting his hands on each side of Seth. Seth’s eyes widen and he goes absolutely still.

“What are you doing?”

Locking their eyes in the mirror, Drew presses his crotch against the small of Seth’s back. His cock is back to full hardness. “What does it look like I’m doing?” He slowly moves his hips to seek for friction. _ Yeah_, so good. He needs this.

For a moment, he can only hear sharp breaths and suppressed whimpers. Seth’s breath hitches when Drew’s lips brush his temple, but being the stubborn brat that he is, he doesn’t move. _ Let’s see how long he’ll keep resisting_. With one swift motion, Drew turns him around.

“What the—?” A surprised gasp escapes Seth’s lips.

Their faces are so close; Drew can count every single one of his long eyelashes. Lifting a hand, he brushes his thumb across Seth’s cheekbone, and Seth swallows. His face flushes beautifully, his pupils fully blown making them look bottomless and dark. He needs to kiss him now... Drew presses his thumb deeper to hold him in place and leans in. Seth’s eyes flutter closed, but in the last split second before their lips touch he turns his head, and Drew’s lips land on his cheek.

“Are we still doing this?” Drew sighs against his temple. “You have my cock in your mouth every night but a kiss is too much. Sure, completely logical.” When Seth doesn’t reply, Drew pulls back and looks at him, with his hand still on Seth’s face. “What do you want, Seth?”

Seth is silent for a long second. He can’t say he doesn’t want this because his hard-on states otherwise, pressing up against Drew’s thigh. So he does the most ‘Seth’ thing possible. “Why don’t you find your girlfriend and screw her? Isn’t that what you were about to do?”

So he saw that. “Are you telling me that you’re jealous?” Drew can’t help smirking.

“Please. Don’t flatter yourself,” Seth scoffs.

“Apologies, how did I forget you don’t even like me? You just really like my cock,” Drew says in a low drawl. “Can’t seem to get enough of it.”

Seth tries to glare at him, but he doesn’t do a very good job. “Stop it.”

“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.” Drew leans closer, so that the tip of their noses brush. “You can’t deny how much you like sucking me off. Or do you just love the taste of hot seed on your tongue? Even after I come, you keep licking my cock like a popsicle that’s two seconds away from melting.” His voice gets lower and lower with every sentence. “You just. Love it.”

He feels rather than hears Seth’s intake of breath, before Seth grabs the back of his head and crushes their mouths together.

_ Fuck, yeah. _There’s nothing tentative about the kiss. Seth kisses Drew the way he sucks his cock; determined and so into it. He sinks his fingers in Drew’s hair, pulling him even closer, moulding their bodies together. Drew grabs his ass with both hands and lifts him to the counter. Automatically, Seth wraps his legs around Drew’s waist.

Drew has no idea how long they’ve made out like their lives depend on it, but he doesn’t fucking care. Not when Seth is licking the inside of his mouth like this, letting out a soft whimper when Drew’s hips thrust forward.

The necessity for air finally forces them apart. Seth’s lips are red and swollen, his breaths coming out in short gasps, reminding Drew that he isn’t much better himself. But that doesn’t stop Drew from pressing his nose against Seth’s neck to breathe him in. It’s a combination of pine and sweat, with a hint of citrus, and nothing will ever smell better. But it soon becomes insufficient. _ More_. Drew licks a stripe of tender skin before gently taking it between his teeth.

“Drew, please...” Seth clutches Drew’s shoulders.

“Please what, babe?”

Seth bucks his hips as Drew’s teeth graze his skin again. Harder this time. “Fuck me... I want you to fuck me.”

And Drew will, there’s nothing he wants more. But before he can unzip his jeans, the door opens and then he hears a slurred voice.

“C’mon guys, get a roooom.”

Drew turns his head and sees a guy their age that he doesn’t know. He’s hovering around the door, with a grin on his face and unfocused eyes, clearly drunk out of his mind. The guy lets out a chuckle before heading to the urinals and taking a piss, humming incoherent words under his breath. After that he staggers towards the sink and washes his hands, and all the while, Seth remains sitting on the counter with his legs around Drew’s waist.

The guy shoots them another sly grin as he finishes. Then he wobbles to the door and leaves. Impressively without stumbling over. Drew looks back at Seth in his arms, who hasn’t moved a muscle since the guy came in.

Seth’s eyes are still glassy and dark, but Drew can feel that he’s sobering up. “Don’t,” Drew tells him. “Don’t change your mind now.”

Slowly, Seth shakes his head. “I’m not,” he whispers.

“Then let’s go home.”

* * *

Everything passes in a blur after that. Drew doesn’t recall saying goodbye to his friends and Seth to his, or the trip back home to the dorm. He doesn’t even remember apologising to Tiffany for blowing her off.

But he remembers stripping Seth off his clothes and gently pushing him down on Drew’s bed. He remembers licking every inch of his skin, not stopping even as Seth writhes underneath him. And he _ definitely _ remembers pushing his cock into Seth’s tight heat and pounding him into the mattress, over and over and over again.

Drew can’t get enough of him. He’s exhausted—both of them are—after three intense orgasms in two hours, and yet his body still craves him. Seth sleepily opens one eye, giving him a tired smile. Drew reaches over to touch his messy curls, then down to his temple, trailing his finger across his jawline. A soft hum leaves Seth’s lips and he closes his eyes. “I should go back to my bed before I fall asleep.”

“Stay here,” Drew says. His bed isn’t big enough for both of them, and tomorrow their bodies will be sore and stiff, but he doesn’t care. He’s not letting him go now. Or later.

Seth doesn’t reply. His breathing deep and even, telling Drew he’s dozed off. Drew watches him for a few more seconds, his long eyelashes and soft lips, then he scoots closer to the wall and gently pulls Seth against him.

* * *

People say time flies when you’re happy, and it does. The next few weeks go by quickly, and before Drew knows it November is here, with Thanksgiving just around the corner. It’s not a big deal for him being a Scot, but the majority of the students will be going home.

“This is a good song, what’s it called?”

Drew’s fingers stop plucking the strings and he looks up. Seth is sitting in his chair with a book in hand, as usual. But now he doesn’t mind Drew playing guitar while he’s reading, only telling him to be quiet when he must concentrate on something difficult.

“Going to California, Led Zeppelin,” Drew says as he plays the first verse of the song again in a softer tune. “It’s not as popular as “Stairway to Heaven” or “Immigrant Song”, or “Kashmir”, but for me it’s up there.”

Seth nods thoughtfully. “You love Led Zeppelin.”

That must be the understatement of the century. “Obviously,” Drew says with a smile, motioning at the posters on the wall behind him.

“I would’ve pegged you as more of a Beatles fan.” Seth places his book on the desk and swivels around to face Drew. “Isn’t every music student or those who are in a band their fan?”

“Everyone but Jinder; he thinks they’re overrated.” Drew chuckles when Seth rolls his eyes. “Are you a Beatles fan?”

“They’re cool,” he replies. “But John Lennon _ is _ overrated.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Drew states dryly. “At least you and Jinder have something in common.”

Seth goes on, as if Drew didn’t interrupt him, “Paul McCartney’s fine, Ringo is, well, Ringo, but George Harrison is the real deal. His lyrics may seem modest but they’re deep, not cryptic or cringe-worthy the way a lot of John’s stuff are. ‘_I don't know why nobody told you, how to unfold your love_’, that’s just beautiful. It’s the kind of stuff I aspire to write.”

Drew never takes his gaze off him as he speaks. Since they got together, Seth finally opened up to him a little, such as he loves writing both lyrics and plays, and that he wants to go to L.A. after he graduates. There are still plenty of things he hasn’t told Drew, but baby steps.

“Well, George’s “All Things Must Pass” is brilliant, in my opinion the best ex-Beatle solo album. I don’t necessarily agree that John is overrated, because there’s a reason why the Beatles' music is timeless. They were ahead of their time. Though, you can also thank the LSD for that,” he adds jokingly. “But Led Zeppelin’s sound has always intrigued me, making me want to create something as distinct.”

Seth is watching him, with a faint smile across his lips. “You’re a good musician. However, your band sucks because your friends are not.” Drew lets out a snort. Only Seth can give a compliment and a blunt insult in the same sentence. That’s why Drew adores him.

He’s listened to their band practice a few times when he waits for Drew to be done, much to Heath’s delight. Despite Seth telling him one time that he sounds like a strangled cat. But apparently it doesn’t lessen Heath’s silly little crush on him.

“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?”

Seth’s smile falters, but he quickly conceals it with a shake of his head. Though not quick enough for Drew to miss it. “No.”

“Why not?” Drew asks, as casually as possible. He really wants to know more about Seth, about the things he hasn’t told him. But he knows Seth would bolt if he pushed too hard. So, he has to tread it carefully.

A shrug. “Because my stepmom doesn’t like me. Actually, that’s a mild way of putting it, more like she despises me.”

His expression is back to normal, but there’s a slight vulnerability in his eyes that anyone who doesn’t know him wouldn’t notice. Drew reaches over the chair’s armrests and pulls Seth towards him. “Why would she hate you?”

Seth can’t go anywhere, trapped in the chair between Drew’s legs. He gives another shrug. “Because I’m my mother’s son, I guess.”

There’s a sense of melancholy in the silence that follows. Drew doesn’t push further. He moves his hand from the armrest to Seth’s cheek, stroking it softly with the back of his fingers. “Don’t forget we’re meeting the others for dinner at seven o’clock.

Seth’s eyes are locked on Drew’s as he nods. “As long as Heath doesn’t attempt to sing,” he quips, making them both laugh. The melancholy is gone for now. But not forgotten.

* * *

The dinner is fun, as always with Drew’s mates around. Alicia and Jinder are now an item, and she recommended a barbecue restaurant in Monterey, not too far from the campus ground. The food is good, and on a Wednesday night the restaurant is only half-full.

They decide to try a thing called ‘Chicken Roulette’, which is a plate of eight chicken wings. But there’s a twist. One of the eight wings has a crazy spicy sauce, one hundred and fifty times hotter than a jalapeño chili, while the rest is coated in a normal BBQ sauce. And it’s impossible to tell which one is which because they all look the same. So, there’s a bit of hesitation at the start. Not Jinder, obviously, being raised on Indian food. He casually picks one wing and eats it with flourish, just to rile up the others. Alicia, Ember, and Seth don’t have a problem with it either. But Corbin, Heath, Zack, and Drew aren’t that much into spicy food. Although Drew never shies away from a challenge, so he shrugs and takes one. To his luck, it’s not the Wing from Hell.

It turns out that Ember is the unlucky one, but she handles it with grace. Nearly doesn’t break a sweat. If she hadn’t won some extra cool points from the guys before, she definitely does now. While they’re waiting for the next dish to arrive, Seth is talking to Zack about architecture. All is well. Until Heath has to open that big mouth of his.

It starts off harmlessly enough, with him asking everyone about their Thanksgiving plans. When it’s Seth’s turn, he just vaguely says that he’s not planning to go home. And things just go downhill from there.

“I always wanna know. Your daddy is Hunter Helmsley from McMahon-Helmsley Industries, right? Why aren’t you called Helmsley, too? Is Rollins your mom’s name?” Heath asks in a cheerful tone.

Seth’s eyes widen the moment he hears the name, looking genuinely bewildered. Drew expects him to tell Heath to mind his own business like he knew his sassy Seth would, but he doesn’t. Instead, the colours disappear from Seth’s face as Heath goes on.

“How do you—know?”

“Oh, a friend of mine Jack knows someone who went to Brown, and the person knows of you,” Heath explains, completely clueless about Seth’s distress. “So why are you called Rollins? It’s your mom’s name, isn’t it?”

“Cut it out, Heath,” Drew tells him, his voice laced with warning.

Heath turns to him with a wave of his hand, the admonishment completely lost on him. “But it’s a simple question. Don’t we all want to know?”

Before Seth can react, Jinder interjects, “And why did you leave Brown University? From what I’ve heard, Ivy League schools are extremely selective, and you must be highly intelligent to get accepted.”

Seth blinks and turns to him, but he says nothing. Drew is about to call out Jinder, too, but Alicia does it before him. “Don’t be so nosey, hun,” she says, sounding chirpy, but at the same time, firm. “Has anyone tried the ribs? They’re really really tasty.”

After that the conversation moves on to food as people start talking about about the best ribs they’ve ever had. Seth watches them in silence, but he answers when Ember asks him a question about his favourite steak place. Feeling a bit relieved, Drew gives Alicia a grateful smile, and she winks at him in return.

* * *

“Come here,” Drew says as he closes his laptop and puts it on the desk. He taps on the mattress beside him.

Across the room, Seth looks up from his phone. “I’m too tired for sex.”

Drew gives him a patient smile. “Who said anything about sex? Come on, come sit here with me.”

He still hesitates for a few seconds, but finally he places his phone in the drawer and rises to his feet. Drew wraps an arm around Seth the moment he sinks down next to him, smiling as Seth’s head leans on his shoulder.

“You, too, wanna know,” Seth says quietly. There’s no question about what he means.

“I do,” Drew admits with a sigh, pressing his lips on top of Seth’s head. “But if you don’t wanna tell me, it’s fine. I know Heath and Jinder they mean no harm, they’re just curious. Don’t take it personally.”

There’s another silence as Seth absently plays with the hem of Drew’s shirt. Seconds are ticking. Maybe he’s just not gonna say anything, and like Drew said, he’s all right with it. But then Seth’s hand stops moving.

“My mom was exquisite. She had long dark hair and dark eyes, and I remember her smelling like honeysuckle in spring,” he says in a low, steady voice. “Everyone who’s seen her will tell you that, Emily Rollins is so precious, so beautiful, she’s a ray of light.”

He pauses, shifting closer to Drew’s chest. “We moved around a lot. Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, and lastly California. She had to do two jobs, sometimes three, but still we never had a lot of money. It was okay, though,” Seth goes on. “I never knew who my dad was, but we didn’t need him. We were fine, she and I. But then she got sick when I was fourteen. Terminal cancer, and they caught it late.”

Drew’s arm around him tightens. “I’m sorry.” Nobody would ever be ready for something like that. Certainly not at fourteen.

“Suddenly I was alone... or so I thought until my dad showed up. Though we were nothing but strangers—he never knew of me and I didn’t care about him. But I had no one else,” he says again, frowning as if the last part bothers him the most. Maybe it does.

“You said your stepmother hates you.”

Seth lets out an exhale. “You know, in a way I get her. There I was, an illegitimate child out of nowhere, a result of a one night stand nobody even remembered. And the worst thing is, she always wanted a son, but she could never have one. Three daughters but not one son. It’s like a slap in the face, isn’t it?” he says. “Stephanie wanted to send me away, but Hunter wouldn’t let her, which is probably the only time he ever disagreed with her.”

“But you left,” Drew notes quietly. “You left Brown and Connecticut, and moved all the way across the country.”

He nods, his fingers start tracing over Drew’s chest. “I did everything I could to aggravate her. Dyeing my hair, partying all night, fooling around with men old enough to be my dad. The last one’s not all for show. I enjoyed the attention, and the way they craved me.” He looks up and meets Drew’s eyes. Totally unapologetic. Drew responds by tucking a hair behind his ear. “Stephanie loved to remind me that my mom was a whore, and that I was just like her. So I proved her point. I thought it was fine as long as I was in control. I never let any of them touch me, it was all me; I was always in charge. And most men are fine with it as long as they get off in the end.”

_ Most men but not all. _Somehow Drew can guess what happens next.

“Then there’s this one guy, John. He was different from the rest of them. He wanted more,” Seth says. “I should’ve known, shouldn’t have let things go too far. He wanted me for himself, telling me he’d leave his wife and kids for me. It freaked me the hell out, but he _ just _ wouldn’t stop. In the end I had to ask my dad to help me.” He stops to take a deep breath. “So, I fucked up. But you know what the worst thing is? John was a partner in McMahon-Helmsley Industries, and his wife threatened to tell the public about the scandal. Suddenly it wasn’t just about me anymore, and not even Hunter could protect me when Vince McMahon, the chairman _ and _ Stephanie’s dad, wanted me gone. As far away as possible.”

The silence lasts longer this time. Until Seth pulls away from Drew’s chest, his eyes big and wistful. “One of my half-sisters also went to Brown so I couldn’t stay there, even if I wanted to.” He blinks. “I don’t have a lot of regrets. But I regret taking my dad for granted, when all he wanted was to make it up to me, for all the years he was unaware of my existence.” He shakes his head, then shrugs. “It’s all water under the bridge now. I have my scholarship, and I like it here. I’m gonna get a degree then go to L.A., where I’ve always wanted to be.”

He turns to Drew again, staring at him. “You’ll be leaving in February for your apprenticeship. To London, Heath told me,” he says, holding Drew’s gaze. “Good for you, I guess.”

Drew waits for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. “I had London and L.A. as my options. I could choose London, and a few weeks ago I would, but L.A. doesn’t sound so bad now, does it? It's a great place for musicians.”

Seth watches him, with a hope in his eyes that he’s trying not to show. But Drew knows enough of him now. “No. Don’t do it for me.”

“Not _ just _ for you,” Drew corrects him softly. “I would’ve chosen London because it was closer to home, not because I thought Los Angeles would be a bad choice. My advisor has always suggested L.A., so she’d be really pleased.” He lifts a hand to brush Seth’s lower lip with a thumb. “And I’m kinda in love with you.”

Seth stays still for a moment, but a little smile touches his lips. “I’m kinda in love with you, too.”

“Finally, something we agree on.”


End file.
